Three Dramas. Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Don't let Ingeborg hear. Come along, we will go into my room.
Mrs. Evje. You forget, all the windows are open there. I have had the fire lit here, so that we could stay here.
Evje. Very well—then we will sit here. (Sits down by the fire.) Will you have a cigar?
Harald. No, thanks. (INGEBORG goes out.)
Evje (taking a cigar and lighting it). As my wife said just now—couldn't you wash your hands of politics, Harald? You, who have both talent and means, need not be at a loss for a vocation in life.
Harald (sitting down on the sofa). If I have any talent, it is for politics—and so I intend to devote my means to that.
Evje. What do you propose to gain by it?
Harald. What any one who believes in a cause hopes to gain—that is to say, to help it on.
Evje. And to become a cabinet minister?
Harald. I certainly can't do that any other way; well, I admit—that is my idea.
Evje. You will not be elected now.
Harald. That we shall see.
Evje. But suppose you are not re-elected to-morrow?
Harald. Then I must find some other way.
Evje. Always with the same object?
Harald. Always with the same object. (EVJE sighs.)
Mrs. Evje (who has taken her sewing and sat down by the fire). Oh, these politics!
Harald. At any rate, they are the most prominent factors in life just now.
Evje. We do not suppose we can exercise any influence over you. But at any rate it is possible that you yourself have not considered the position into which you have put the whole of us. (Both he and his wife avoid looking at HARALD during this discussion.)
Mrs. Evje. Say what you really mean, dear—that he is making us all thoroughly unhappy, and that is the truth!
Harald (getting up, and walking up and down). Well, look here—I have a proposal to make. It is, that you should abandon all opposition to Gertrud's marrying me at once. To-day again my brother has expressed the wish that we should be married by his bedside; so that he should be able to take part in it. I scarcely need add how happy it would make me.
Evje. But whether she is here at home or married to you, you know, her parents' distress would be just as great every time their child was persecuted.
Mrs. Evje. Surely you can appreciate that!
Harald. But what answer am I to give to my brother's request?—most likely the last he will ever—. (Stops.)
Evje (after a pause). He is very kind to wish it, as he always is. Nothing would make us happier; but we who are her parents do not consider that you could make our daughter happy as long as you remain in politics and on the lines on which you are now travelling.
Harald (after a pause, during which he has stood still). That is to say, you contemplate breaking off our engagement?
Evje (looking at him quickly). Far from it!
Mrs. Evje (at the same time). How can you say such a thing?
Evje (turning towards the fire again). We have spoken about it to Gertrud to-day—as to whether it would not be possible to induce you to choose some other career.
Mrs. Evje. You understand now, why you found Gertrud upset. You must listen to us now, as she did, in all friendliness.
Evje (getting up and standing with his back to the fire). The first thing I do in the morning is to read my paper. You know what was in it to-day—the same as is in it now every day.
Mrs. Evje. No; I am sure it has never been as bad as to-day.
Harald (walking up and down again). The election is just at hand!
Evje. Well—it is just as painful to us, her father and mother, whether it is before or after the election. We are not accustomed to associate with any one who has not first-class credentials—and now we have to endure seeing doubt cast upon our own son-in-law's. Do not misunderstand me; to my mind, for credentials to be first-class they must not only actually be so, but must also be considered to be so by people in general. (HARALD begins to walk up and down again.) The second thing I do in the morning is to open my letters. Amongst to-day's were several from friends we had invited to a party we thought of giving—if, that is to say, your brother's illness took no sudden turn for the worse. No fewer than ten of them refuse our invitation—most of them making some excuse, and a few with a little more show of a real reason; but one of them speaks straight out, and I have his letter here. (Takes it from his pocket.) I have kept it for you. It is from my father's old friend, the bishop. I haven't my spectacles—and for me to have mislaid my spectacles will show you what a state of mind I am in. I don't think I have done such a thing for—. Here, read it yourself! Read it aloud!
Harald (taking the letter). "My dear Mr. Evje. As you are my poor dear friend's son, you must listen to the truth from me. I cannot willingly come to your house while I might meet there a certain person who, certainly, is one of you, but nevertheless is a person whom I cannot hold in entire respect."
Mrs. Evje. Well, Harald, what do you think our feelings must be when we read things like that?
Evje. Do not imagine that, in spite of that, we do not hold you in entire respect. We only ask you to ensure our daughter's happiness. You can do that with a word.
Mrs. Evje. We know what you are, whatever people say—even if they are bishops. But, in return, you ought to have confidence in our judgment; and our advice to you is, have done with it! Marry Gertrud at once, and go away for your honeymoon; by the time you come back, people will have got something else to talk about—and you will have found something else to occupy you as well.
Evje. You must not misunderstand us. We mean no coercion. We are not insisting on this alternative. If you wish to be married, you shall—without feeling yourself obliged to change your vocation for our sakes. We only want to make it clear that it would pain us—pain us very deeply.
Mrs. Evje. If you want to take time to think it over, or want to talk it over with Gertrud or with your brother, do! (GERTRUD comes in and goes about the room looking for something.)
Evje. What are you looking for, dear?
Gertrud. Oh, for the—.
Mrs. Evje. I expect it is the newspaper; your grandfather has been asking for it.
Evje. Surely there is no need for him to read it?
Mrs. Evje. He asked me for it, too. He knows quite well what has made us all unhappy.
Evje. Can't you tell him? No, that wouldn't do.
Mrs. Evje (to GERTRUD). I suppose you have had to confess to him what is the matter?
Gertrud (trying to conceal an emotion that is almost too much for her). Yes. (Finds the paper, and goes out.)
Mrs. Evje (when GERTRUD has gone). Poor child!
Evje. Does not what she is carrying to him, with all that it says about you and about your brother, seem to you like an omen? I will tell you how it strikes me. Your brother is a very much more gifted man than I am; and although it is true, as that paper says, that nothing of all that he has worked for has ever come to anything, still perhaps he may nevertheless have accomplished more than either you or me, although we have done a good deal between us to increase the prosperity of our town. I feel that to be so, although I cannot express what I mean precisely. But consider the reputation he will leave behind him. All educated people will say just what that paper says to-day—and to-morrow he will be forgotten. He will scarcely find a place in history, for history only concerns itself with the great leaders of men. What does it all come to, then? Neither present nor posthumous fame; but death—death all the time. He is dying